


Kinda Busy

by ellewrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sexting, Video Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 16:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20877392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellewrites/pseuds/ellewrites
Summary: “I want –” Bruce tried, swallowing around the awkwardness in his throat. “I want – I want you.”It was such a simple, pedestrian thing to say but the way Bruce said it? Like it ached in his chest? Tony knew exactly what he meant, exactly how he felt. Because he wantedhimtoo. Not just his dick or to be fucked or whatever. He wanted Bruce to be there with him. All the time. Like he had been five short weeks ago before he got this stupid itch totravel.“God baby,” Tony groaned. “I want you too.”





	Kinda Busy

**Author's Note:**

> I should have given myself more time to write this so I would have had more time to edit it but I didn’t because I suck so sorry for making you wade through the mistakes, dear reader.

Tony knew that dating him wasn’t easy. He was needy and difficult to reassure, he wanted constant attention, typically of the physical variety, and he wasn’t all that understanding or sympathetic to other people. He _ tried _ to be, sure. But even he knew he sucked at it and he didn't need his menagerie of exes to tell him so.

Which is why Bruce was such a great boyfriend for him. He was endlessly patient but also reasonably self-sufficient. Bruce rarely needed much reassurance of his own – the fact that Tony hung over all over him constantly and invited him to move in like three months into dating because he just wanted to be with him _ all the time _ seemed to be enough for Bruce. And really, Bruce made him want to try harder at being a good partner – he did. That in and of itself was pretty remarkable, in his experience. 

Plus Bruce was also a contractor who worked from home. So fuck breaks were definitely a thing. A thing Tony knew he needed and then actually _ got _ with Bruce. There were no more me-and-my-hand sessions with Bruce around. All he had to do was send Bruce a dirty message from his office across the hall and twenty minutes later they’d be in bed for a quickie. 

Tony was living his best life and it was perfect. Absolutely, one-fucking-thousand percent perfect. And then, for reasons Tony would never, ever understand when what they had going was beyond his wildest dreams, Bruce took a three month contract in Dubai. 

It really was a testament to how much he tried to be good for Bruce that he didn’t have a full scale meltdown and kick him out of bed _ and _ the house as soon as the words left Bruce’s mouth. Every single one of his abandonment issues flared up – as to be expected from a kid punted off to boarding school so his parents could indulge in more fantastic vacations without worrying about the trifling necessities of taking care of him – and he would admit to pouting something awful and asking why Bruce would do that. 

“I’m coming back, Tony,” Bruce told him softly, stroking his face as they lay side by side in bed. “Part of the appeal of being a contractor for me is the opportunity to travel. Why do you think I was living in that stupid little efficiency apartment when we met?” He laughed but Tony didn’t feel it. “This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place in years and I just – I need to do this. You can understand that, right?” 

Well, no. Tony couldn’t understand. And he rolled over and refused to talk to Bruce for the rest of the night. But when he woke up in the morning he tried to be a little more reasonable about it and actually communicate his fears and what he should expect, where Bruce would be, how they were going to deal with this stupid need of his to run away for a few months. And he tried to keep his shit together for the next two weeks as Bruce showered him in physical affection and reassurances. 

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t still a vindictive asshole who took every possible opportunity to make Bruce’s life hell for it though.

At first, he tried to be better than that. He really, really did. They talked on the phone and video chatted and did normal long distance relationship things... for a week. Then Tony was shamelessly begging for phone sex and sending filthy texts throughout the day – when Bruce was usually fucking sleeping thanks to goddamn time zones – and masturbating out his frustration entirely more than he had ever signed up for when he’d asked Bruce to move in with him.

Yeah, he’d been called nympho or a sex addict or – whatever. But it wasn’t really that. He just really needed to be touched. From his very first boarding school boyfriend with his cute little smile and his shaky little hands eagerly pawing all over him every time they'd had a moment of privacy, Tony knew it. That’s what he needed. That’s what he was missing. 

It didn’t hurt that he also really _ liked _ sex and it was a very socially acceptable way of engaging in physical affection for men. But really, at least in this instance, more than the sex Tony just missed the fucker. Yeah, sure, he missed screwing around with him whenever he wanted, _ of course _, because Bruce was really, REALLY good at that. But he also just... 

He missed his stupid pile of tea mugs in the sink and the scent of his floral shampoo. He missed his dumb, long hair in the drain and the way he laughed in his sleep sometimes. He missed his annoying NPR talk radio coming from the cracked door down the hall and the gross sandwiches he would leave on his desk with sprouts and coarse ground mustard and shit on them that Tony was too childish to admit to craving right then. He missed the way he was always in bed by 10 pm and the way his arms felt around him. Not even when they were having sex just... 

When they were out to eat and Bruce slid into the booth next to him and threw his arm over his shoulders. When they went to a party and Bruce refused to take his arm from his waist, like he was just so proud to be with him. When he came up behind him at his desk and dropped down to give him a quick squeeze just because. When Tony would be standing in the kitchen or wherever, lost deep in some dark thought, and Bruce just knew he needed a hug and he would come in, wrap his arms around him, pull him into his chest, and hold him like time had no meaning and he could stand there for the rest of his life.

So because all of that was just too much to process, he let his maturity drop to that of a five year old and began a series of petty retaliations. 

He did not have any self-mandated 10 pm bedtime and so he would wait until midnight when he knew Bruce had only just gotten into the office to start sending him dirty messages. And Bruce – he took it like a gentleman. He really did. But they’d been living together for almost a year and a half now and Tony knew him better than that. The man liked sex just as much as he did. That was another one of those things that made Bruce such a great boyfriend for him. Or so he thought until he skipped town on him.

_ I can’t stop imagining that time in the shower where you grabbed my hair and face fucked me so hard I couldn’t breathe. _

It was a particularly good memory. One that warranted more than a face palm emoji in return.

_ I keep having dreams where you’re fucking me raw doggy style and waking up with the sheets soaking wet from cum so thanks for the increased water bill. So much for saving the goddamn environment with that high efficiency washer of yours. _

He didn’t even bother to reply to that. Hypocrite. 

_ God I miss you so fucking much I just want you to sit on my face and jerk off on my chest with my nose buried in your crack and my tongue so far up your ass it’ll feel like I’m kissing you. _

Bruce was pretty good at ignoring him but eventually Tony knew his persistence would pay off. 

_ Here I am, about to go masturbate /again/ because my handsome sexy boyfriend and his big thick dick is halfway across the world in some dumb meeting and I’m all alone in bed. _

_ Again. _

_ AGAIN. _

_ And I’m using your dildo out of spite. Not because I love you or miss you or anything. _

_ Just so you know. _

_ Wanna see? _

And, because he was quite visually gifted, he took a damn beautiful picture, even if he did say so himself, of his own dick hard and swollen with Bruce’s favorite dildo up his ass. Idiot should never have left it behind. He was going to have to wait all day then use his fingers. Idiot. 

That got to Bruce though. Tony got a real, honest to god response with words and everything. 

_ You know I have an eight o’clock stand up I can’t look at this right now. _

Tony, with every ounce of his five-year-old maturity responded: 

_ An eight o’clock stand up? How does this not help? _

And then sent another picture with his dick straight up in the air and he knew damn well what a stand up was but he couldn’t help chuckling to himself for the horrific pun and feeling good that he’d finally gotten a response from Bruce. 

He had just obviously needed some visual cues. And that made midnight a little more interesting.

The next day – not because he was desperate or anything, certainly not – Tony went out and got a selfie stick after looking up the best ways to take pornographic pictures of yourself and started his assault in earnest. 

He sent nudes. He sent pictures with just about every sex toy they owned up his ass. He took shots in the shower jerking off. He bought nipple clamps and texted Bruce that he missed his fingers. He strung himself up in a cock ring and worked himself until he was dripping then texted him that he missed his mouth. 

It was the lacy panties that did it though. Funny, because that wasn’t what Tony was expecting at all. They’d never discussed it before. It was just an off-hand impulse as he walked through Target on a quest for stupid cleaning supplies and other household crap – Bruce’s chore, not that Tony had ever forgotten that because he hated doing shit like this and he certainly remembered what it was like to be single without having to have his boyfriend move across the whole damned ocean for an entire quarter of a _ year _ – and he saw them hanging there and he said fuck it and grabbed a few different pairs. The young kid cashiering couldn’t help but smirk and Tony wanted to say something about how they were for him but he managed to keep his mouth shut. Bruce would have been proud. Maturity and all that. Bruce really was a good influence on him – though he was sure it didn’t feel like that to Bruce right then. 

The thing was – Bruce had never really told him to stop? He was clearly irritated, his responses ranging from annoyed to downright pissed but when they got a few minutes to actually talk he almost never even mentioned it. Which, frankly, only frustrated Tony more but whatever. He had the tenacity of a bulldog and the time to dedicate to getting Bruce to crack and so that was what he did. 

Still, the picture of his dick hard and straining under floral lace was not what Tony expected to bring him over the edge. 

He only got a few shots sent before he was getting, of all things, a video call. They usually reserved such things for when Bruce was back at his place for dinner, which was usually right after Tony’d had breakfast, so to say this was unusual was an understatement but he scrambled to pick up the call. 

Before Tony had even fully connected Bruce was launching into some kind of spiel. 

“You’ve got to stop this,” he said, his picture flickering momentarily as Tony’s locked in on the bottom of the screen. “I – I can’t –”

“Where are you?” Tony interrupted, flipping on the light by his side of the bed so that Bruce could see him better in the dark. 

Bruce sighed and looked at his bleak, harsh-lit surroundings. He looked tired. He looked sad. Tony hated the pang in his heart looking at him looking that way. Bruce did this to his own stupid self. Tony shouldn’t feel bad about it.

“I’m in the cafe bathroom at the bottom of the building.” 

“You walked out of your stand up?” Tony asked, laughing, though Bruce glared at him. 

“What was I supposed to do? My dick’s a fucking steel rod right now so I told them I was feeling ill so I could come to this single stall bathroom and jerk off and they’re all laughing at me right now talking behind my back about how my sensitive American stomach can’t handle the food here while I’ve lived in both Marrakesh and New Dehli for months at a time all because you have to send me literally the raunchiest shit you can think of until I can’t even call a basic function in JavaScript!” 

Tony could see how mad Bruce was, he really could. The poor man was almost sweating, his face was red, and he was whisper shouting at him in an ugly bathroom. So obviously, Tony had to laugh as he played with himself idly beneath the lacy panties. 

“Why do you even bring your phone into the meeting then?” he asked and watched as Bruce scrubbed his face in frustration. 

“What if something happened to you?”

Then Tony didn’t laugh. His hand stilled as he stared at the screen and even with the mediocre video quality he could see the fear and worry in Bruce’s eyes. 

“Baby – nothing is going to happen to me at midnight in our own house, okay? I’m fine.”

“But what if you went out with someone and you were driving back home and you got in an accident and the police were calling me and I didn’t have my phone with me and I’m so far away and –”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Tony interrupted, feeling really bad now, turning on his side so he could look at Bruce like he was laying in bed next to him, cradling the edge of the device with his other hand as a stand in for cradling his cheek. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I...” Bruce trailed off, looking flushed and embarrassed suddenly and that was bounds better than terrified. “I’m not sure I want you to stop, though.” 

Then Bruce flipped the phone screen and there was a brief moment of black and fuzz and then Tony was staring at Bruce’s big, beautiful dick out in his hand, looking every bit the steel rod he’d described it as jutting from the zipper in his pants. Tony’s abs clenched and he couldn’t help but whine at this unexpected delight, his own dick hardening up again instantly. 

“Jesus Christ I would drop my pants so fast and let you fuck me right over that sink if I were there right now,” Tony breathed and Bruce’s hand couldn’t help but stroke himself a little and Tony clenched his thighs as he watched. “Fuck – you have no idea how much I miss that dick.”

He could hear Bruce shift in the background and then his face was back on the screen, looking even more flushed than before, his eyes a little wild with desire. Bruce licked his lips. 

“Are you still wearing those panties?” 

The question made him hotter than it had any right to and he flipped back over on his back. 

“Why?” he asked coyly, spreading his hand out against his neck and watching Bruce bite his own lip. “Do you want to see?” 

“_ Please _,” he begged and Tony’s grin widened. 

“I had no idea you were so into this,” he said. “But you only get to see if I get to see.” 

“Fuck – fair,” he concluded quickly though he was clearly irritated by that conditional. 

He found a way to prop his phone up on the sink though, giving Tony an absolutely perfect shot of his crotch and he reached for some paper towels. Truly, this was not at all what he intended when he sent those pictures but hey – he was definitely _ not _ going to complain about the result. 

Tony flipped his camera rear facing so that he could angle it down his chest, a thing he had done several times now since Bruce left but he realized immediately that he didn’t like that. He liked that he could see Bruce’s body with the shot he was given. He liked that if Bruce leaned down right, he could see his face. He thought Bruce deserved the full show too. 

“One second,” he said as he stood, forward facing the camera again and leaning it up against the lamp on the bedside table, sitting up so that most of his body was in frame too. 

Tony could see the way Bruce’s hand gave a few quick tugs as Tony moved to pull his dick out of the waistband of the panties and he could hear him make some kind of sound between a curse and a moan. 

“God Tony, you’re so fucking sexy,” he said, his voice quiet, just above a whisper, and the reminder that Bruce was in a public place where he couldn’t be too loud was almost too much. 

Tony had done that. With his little war on Bruce’s resolve he managed to get him rushing to the bathroom to jerk off. Maybe Bruce didn’t regret his trip yet but certainly he had to want this again. He had to want to come back to him. 

“I know you want this,” Tony said with far more self confidence than he actually felt as he reached down again and pulled his balls from the panties, hanging them over the waistband so that all his junk was exposed and the panties were just a Y shape between his thighs. 

“Fuck yeah I do,” Bruce muttered, the hand clutching the paper towels tightening against the sink as he fisted himself slowly with the other. 

“I’d let you touch it,” Tony said as he wrapped his hand around his own dick, easing his hand over it up and down slowly. “I’d let you put your filthy mouth on it and suck it like a lollipop.” 

He let the ‘p’ pop in his mouth and ran his other hand down his chest and across a nipple and he heard Bruce try to stifle a moan. 

“I’m gonna cum too soon,” he whined and Tony chuckled as he picked up the anal vibrator he’d already started to lube up when Bruce called. 

“If you were here I’d make you cum right now and then fuck you again and again, all night long.”

“Fuck –” Bruce cried and dropped his hand, leaving his dick swollen as he clutched at the sink with it. 

Tony couldn’t believe he’d stopped just then and it made his own insides ache. It had to hurt. The amount he wanted to be there on that floor right then, sucking him off and swallowing down buckets of Bruce’s cum was obscene. He’d even maybe sort of consider sitting on a plane for fourteen hours to do it. Maybe. 

“I need to see you cum first,” Bruce said and Tony was trying so hard to be smooth but the plaintive tone in his voice was too much. Tony was just glad Bruce couldn’t see his hands shaking as he pulled back the thong from his crack and took a deep breath before slipping the vibrator inside. 

Tony sat back on his ass now so that he could feel the vibrator pressed up hard inside him and rocking his hips would create delicious pressure against his prostate but it wasn’t the same. Maybe, objectively, it was better with it’s pinpoint accuracy and all that. But it wasn’t the same as having Bruce taking care of him, holding him, making sure that he got off so hard his toes curled and he couldn’t breathe right for a minute. That was different. That was better in a different way. 

At least he could tell Bruce was suffering too as he watched Tony fuck himself silly in their bed without him while he was in a dumb bathroom a billion miles away. 

“Baby, you’re so hard there’s no way I’m gonna cum first,” Tony teased then gasped as he rocked his hips the right way against the toy and maybe what he’d just said was a bald faced lie but he didn’t regret it. 

He rolled his dick in his hand and then gave a long, low moan, watching as Bruce leaned his face down into his hands for a minute, trying to get some kind of control over himself and obviously failing as he locked his thumb and forefinger around the base of his dick to stave off the desire to stroke it. 

“God I wish I were on your big, fat dick right now,” Tony moaned, bouncing up and down on the bed, feeling the vibrator hitting against his prostate with every move, sending delicious sparks of pleasure through his gut and up his shaft as he stroked at it firmly. 

“Tell me what _ you _ want, baby,” Tony said then, trying to listen to the little sounds Bruce was making that were barely picked up by the speaker as he removed his hand from its makeshift cock ring duty to wipe up leaking precum from his head before it hit the ground. “Tell me you want to nail my ass to the floor.” 

“Tony!” he gasped, stroking down his dick and moaning over the sink, straight into the speaker, like Bruce was right there with his head pressed down into Tony’s chest. 

Tony pressed his hips down hard into the bed, grinding into the vibrator like he was grinding down on Bruce’s dick and it would have been easier to imagine if he closed his eyes but he could only stare at Bruce on the screen, trying so hard not to let himself come but helpless to touch himself. 

“Tell me,” Tony demanded. “Tell me you want to fuck me ‘til I can’t sit straight.”

“I wanna fuck you until you can’t sit straight,” Bruce repeated automatically, but to Tony’s delight, he continued, panting – “and then I want to fuck you even more. Until you can't _ move _.” 

Tony tried to repress a moan but then he remembered he wasn’t the one in the bathroom stall so he let it out. He was so fucking close. Bruce was terrible at vocalizing stuff like that but the fact that he’d tried and that Tony wanted him so damn bad right then quickly had him at the edge.

“I want –” Bruce tried, swallowing around the awkwardness in his throat. “I want – I want _ you _.” 

It was such a simple, pedestrian thing to say but the way Bruce said it? Like it ached in his chest? Tony knew exactly what he meant, exactly how he felt. Because he wanted _ him _ too. Not just his dick or to be fucked or whatever. He wanted Bruce to be there with him. All the time. Like he had been five short weeks ago before he got this stupid itch to _ travel _. 

“God baby,” Tony groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked his hips down hard, pressing the vibrator straight up against his prostate and feeling it throb and push him right _ there _. “I want you too.” 

He came hard, harder than he had probably since Bruce left, cum shooting all the way up his chest as he leaned back on the bed to ride it out, feeling it deep in his gut as the vibrator pulsed out every drop. Then he pulled it out and watched on the phone screen as Bruce came gasping into the paper towels he held, leaning so far over the sink to hold himself up that the picture was ultimately completely obscured by his torso.

Bruce buried his sweaty curls in his hand and then rubbed at his face, looking over at the phone screen, sweaty and strung out. 

“Goddamn it Tony...” he sighed and Tony wiped his hand on the bed sheet before hastily grabbing his phone to look at him more clearly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized suddenly, recognizing it for the out of character move it was but feeling a sudden punch of sadness that they weren’t together and that he was going to have to go to bed alone after an orgasm that intense. 

“Come out here when your contract is up next week,” Bruce asked. He was leaning over the sink so his phone was in his face and his eyes were big and sad and sincere and Tony frowned. “I was thinking about coming back for a week but I can’t, they don’t want me to leave and I mean, I get it, it’s a mess here and they need me, but I – I made a mistake.” 

Tony curled up on the bed, covered in cum but needing to be curled up tightly to protect himself from how badly it hurt to hear that, even in light of how damn validating it was. 

_ I made a mistake. _

‘Damn right you did,’ he wanted to say. ‘And you deserve it and I’m not sitting on a filthy fucking plane full of people and germs and babies using tiny little plane bathrooms and pretending to eat whatever passes for food on there for an entire day not once but _ twice _ because you made a fucking _ mistake _.’

But what came out was, “we’ll have to look at ticket prices.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Bruce jumped, picking up the phone so he could throw away the towels and still look at him though Tony closed his eyes against his pleading. “The room they’ve got me in is really nice. I know you don’t like to fly but...”

Bruce trailed off and Tony opened his eyes again to see his face looking tight and sad. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You don’t have to come. I know this is all my fault I just... I really miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Tony said back, wishing he was laying next to him and that he could reach out and touch his face. 

“I never used to have any problem leaving boyfriends for months before,” Bruce admitted, looking away, chagrined, but then his eyes came back to the camera and he looked somehow shy and guilty at the same time. “But now everywhere I go and everything I see I can only think about how much better it would be if you were here to share it with me.”

“Fuck you,” Tony said as he felt his eyes well up with tears and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stop them from falling. “No one has ever asked for this much from me.”

“I won’t make this mistake again,” Bruce said it like a promise but if anyone knew how difficult it was to deny their own nature, it was Tony. 

“Yes you will,” he said. “All I hear right now is that I better keep my fucking passport updated.” 

Bruce barked out a little laugh then and Tony smiled despite the tears that still dripped down his cheeks. He loved when his coarse humor made Bruce laugh. 

“I love you,” Bruce said. 

“I know,” Tony replied. “And I love you too. But you better get out of that bathroom before someone thinks your stuck in there and back to your stand up before they think you really got food poisoning.” 

“I know but... okay,” he said, sighing in resignation. “Call me when you wake up? I need to see you tonight.” 

“Okay,” Tony agreed easily. “Miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Bruce agreed. 

And Bruce stared at him for a moment and Tony stared back, both of them full of things to say and neither wanting to let the other go so Tony killed the call for him so Bruce didn’t have to. It wasn’t any easier on him it was just... 

Fuck. 

He flopped the phone down on the bed and lay there feeling gross and tired and sad. How could someone as smart as Bruce be so fucking dumb?

But it didn’t matter. Because he loved him. And he knew he loved him because when he picked up his phone again he was looking up flights to Dubai.


End file.
